Wednesday, March 18, 2009


Okay, I'm officially a workaholic. Who in their right mind wouldn't rather be home than at work? Uh ... me.

I hate missing work. It's very possible that this is due entirely to the field I'm in, but I suspect that doesn't have as much to do with it as I once thought. I didn't work last summer, and I almost drove myself insane, never mind what I did to Addie, Belle, and Pythagorus (also the dog and cat).

Of course, I can remember enjoying days off when I worked in other fields, but that's more than likely because I didn't really love my job. It's weird, but Belle has been pretty content without me hovering over her, and I'm finding myself at loose ends.

Also, there's so much going on at work that I feel wrong for not being there. My family always comes first with me, but days like today are kind of difficult. Belle is too sick to go to daycare, but healthy enough to eat a Burger King kid meal with great enthusiasm. My black lab, Sonja, is pretty pumped because we have to crate her during the day when we're all gone (she does things like eat socks and underwear when she's out ... that surgery's pretty expensive) and instead she gets to run wild with Belle.

All I can think about are the things I should be doing at work. What is wrong with me?

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